


Pretenses

by dolgelo



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, kisses yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolgelo/pseuds/dolgelo
Summary: The delicate scent of some flowery fragrance, maybe being left open all night somewhere in the same room, filled the air - easily recognisable for its sweetness; it would have been hard to ignore it, no matter the accustomed olfaction or force of habit.





	Pretenses

Heavy, her chest moved rhythmically, up - down, as a hand raised, gently touching the back of her mane, the red, long hair falling wild in curls on her back and shoulders, on the skin that felt softly tickled by the morbid locks; their care did require so much time, effort and troubles but now, looking at her own reflection in the mirror, Mitsuru could say to be actually satisfied with the result. The hard work had finally paid off - and frankly, she loved it. 

Freeing the longest hair from the collar of the light, lacey nightwear, loosely hanging right above and over her chest, long down her waist and hips. Many could have found it inappropriate for the current time of the year but her room did always feel warm, the chilly air outside, moreover, was more than bearable for someone like her. She would have soon changed into something more proper for the daily duties anyway soon.

Her personal salle de bain was completely white - from walls to props, and furniture too. Enough to almost shine, when all lights inside used to be on, projecting their intensity everywhere and the funniest shadows on the pavement - fair too, cold, perhaps made of marble. The pure and utter finest, after all, is where she had spent her childhood, most of her life; it did feel comforting and, although sometimes more similar to a golden cage than anything else or better, it was still home and, aside from Iwatodai dorm, the only place she had lived in. 

Lately, it had become more frequent for her, to remain there, and work in those very rooms more than ever before; maybe it was all due to major threats being eliminated, directly and effectively - by the operative group. Being leader had its downsides, its rules to follow meticulously. But also perks, just like having often the commodity to stay at home and manage all from and in there; not that she wouldn’t have minded traveling, moving to the capital for a certain lapse of time and so on - just like it had happened for the Inaba case years ago, one that she would have liked to forget soon anyway.

The delicate scent of some flowery fragrance, maybe being left open all night somewhere in the same room, filled the air - easily recognizable for its sweetness; it would have been hard to ignore it, no matter the accustomed olfaction or force of habit. 

Eyes still scrutinising the reflection moved quicker, with eyelids feeling a bit lighter in weight now that sleepiness had started to finally fade, to leave the place for the usual realization of morning befallen - the sun outside and probably something to attend or listen to. Or again, books to read – those who were millions of times more interesting of mere files to memorize. Underneath the mask of authority, her interests did remain very much alike the ones she used and to have while still attending school. 

The hand brushing delicately her hair, surrounded - prisoned by the soft locks, moved slowly upwards now. 

So much for a bedhead! – given the almost miraculous and current status of her hair, Mitsuru wouldn’t have lost too much, precious time, that day, making them presentable. a first and welcome consolation, perhaps. She moved the left side of the mane behind her shoulder, admiring the result with brighter and clearer eyes. 

A noise behind her reached the girl’s ears, making her stop, freeze as mind processed to identify it the best it could; but as a lightning striking the otherwise calm and serene night sky, realization soon struck, hit her. And the incantation broke, leaving her relaxed enough to move the hand again, admiring more conscious, now the mirror. Whatever, or whoever, had moved just a moment ago still did not stop, yet softly. If those had been, perhaps, footsteps, then they were extremely quiet ones. Leaving her own hair be, both hands moved to the sink, white and cold - the basin completely made of marble; weight shifted from feet to elbows, and wrists but nothing else did change in the end, for her stare did not dare to falter. Only then the Empress noticed that a faint, pale veil of make-up had yet to leave her cheekbones, eyes and even lips; focused on the shape of her own mouth - the thin, small lips the girl did love to empathize with a bit of color, Mitsuru barely noticed something else in the reflection was moving, reaching for her own figure. 

All was understood and comprehended only as a gentle touch on her right should make Mitsuru almost flinch, interrupting the trail of thoughts and the analyzing of her features, eyes or anything else. And so she glanced upwards, a familiar face meeting her. Of course, the boy was taller than her! – the girl had to slightly raise her head a bit to feel comfortable, looking at his face reflected in front of her, still, in the looking-glass. She reserved him a little smile, one corner of her mouth lifting without turning around – he would have noticed. Right? 

The idea of telling him something, wish him a pleasant morning maybe, did also sound good enough… but something refrained her from speaking, even doing so and simply linger in those cute ideas popping out in her head: his grip on her shoulder did become somehow tenser. It was easy to tell, for Mitsuru; especially for how rare it was, for him, to behave that way, even if just by a mere mistake. It did not hurt in the slightest but did felt strange. Was he feeling off, perhaps? He did look perfectly normal just a bunch of minutes before, though.

His firm grip then, just as it had come, returned loose, morbid around her. The other, the left one, barely touching her waist. In an instant, all changed. And to remain indifferent to that, for Mitsuru, felt insanely impossible; ego and pride put quickly aside, the vision became black, eyelids closed the moment the girl straightened her posture once more, for him, and as she saw Akihiko returning the smile, his reflection move behind her and his smell feeling stronger, delighting for all her senses. She felt slow movements, in the utter darkness now – so in contrast with the lights in the room, all that white – and hot, delicate breath on the skin of her neck. Had the brushed, too, her hair aside? For this? The little smirk did not leave, yet. She couldn’t consider herself exactly the ticklish type, but it still felt nice – the reason behind his brief moment of pure and child-like tension, now, could be justified and understood. Mitsuru’s right hand lifted, searching for him. All it found, though, was first his nape and neck, then his short, clean hair. 

Softly, barely felt in its true entirety, his lips laid on the few centimeters of naked skin the pretty chemise did allow, the thin and sensitive one of her collarbone - right in the crack of her neck. The contact was not a rough, nor slobbery in the very slightest – she believed herself and him too to not be the type for such stuff. Instead, almost too gentle, with the smooth brush of his mouth against that body part, he had kissed her. Together with the gentleness of that display of affection, and tenderness, it was hard not to also acknowledge or notice the feeling of his vicinity; his aura of intoxicating warmth she did envy so much. Anyway, and truth be told, Mitsuru had not exactly expected it, though; but the gentle gasp of surprise did die still inside her throat - no matter how much she did desire for it not to, and simply be free. Instead, her eyes opened slowly and head turned a bit to look at him, not his – their? – reflection any longer. Warm, gentle. The two gazes met, with eye contact stabilizing at last, strong. And a moment of awkward silence settled in. Not for too long, at least.

"I was not–" 

When she realized her hand was still nestled in his hair, as if caressing that, it lowered once more. The girl’s voice had not betrayed her, unlike the words per se; what a pathetic attempt to make things less awkward! It had been sweet - incredibly so. He had to know, just how much the kiss on the shoulder, or the gentle feeling of his hand around her sides, had all been appreciated. Or just how good it had been that he had so easily induced, for that single instant, all her previous thoughts, plans, and worries to be wiped all out – and with such a simple, but affectionate, gesture. 

It had all been perfect. Her following chuckle, then, did seem definitely out of place in there and she actually regretted it a second later it filled the room, escaping her own control. Amused, light in volume. And, most importantly sincere. She was keen to similar stuff, from time to time, too - when alone; not that she would have ever admitted that to anyone. But something, in the current interaction and what she had just received without pretenses, nor asking for it, felt too endearing to be dismissed as a simple thing. 

"How are you so… so… ?"


End file.
